Another silly one. Realization spoilers for Jean Loo Pissoir. Mac mentioned. Kopi mentioned. Jean Loo Pissoir/Reader. Gender Neutral Reader. Fluff. SFW. Death threat but like a non serious one. Not Beta Read, I die. I just die.
“Non. Non non non non non!”
“It's not even that bad.”
“It is not that bad, it is worse!”
You and Jean Loo Pissoir, your favorite former toilet turned lover turned accountant, sit at your kitchen table drinking some of the most dogshit coffee you've ever had.
God, you miss Kopi.
“You said you would give me a hand with my taxes!”
“Jean Loo admits he did say this,” he sighs, lacing his fingers together. “But! That was before he knew you were un désastre financier!”
“What the hell does that mea…oh! Financial disaster!”
“Oh ho, très bien! You have been studying?”
“Oh yeah. I got some uh, tapes from the library. Anyway, my finances can't be that bad!”
He removes a disorganized folder from his briefcase and tosses it on the table. A few receipts flutter out of it when it lands.
“What is this, hein? It is the…,” he gestures vaguely as he searches for the right word. “It is like the…the…financial spaghetti code!”
“How do you know the phrase Spaghetti Code?”
“Some of the walls in this house…they are very thin. You think Jean Loo could not hear everything that went on in the office? One would not think Mac could get so angry at a website, but…”
“Well, if it's that bad doesn't that just mean I need your help even more?!”
“If Jean Loo tries to deal with this…mess, he will end up in prison!”
“Oof. You really think it's that bad? Do I really need to worry about the IRS?”
“Non, non. What you will have to worry about is Jean Loo losing his mind and putting you in a shallow grave!”
“Ugh. Come on! Please? You promised!”
“Jean Loo never said the word promise.”
“It was implied,” you groan. Plan B. You rest your head on your hand. “I really could use your help. I'm just so…bad at this kind of thing.”
He looks at you, unmoved.
“And when you said you'd help me, I couldn't help but be sooo grateful that I had such a cool and smart boyfriend to sort it all out.”
He looks at you, a little moved. He huffs, exhaling through his nose. “Well…”
You look at him, trying your hardest to look sweeter and cuter than you ever have before in your goddamn life. “Gosh, without your help, I don't know how I'm going to-”
“Hey! Stop it! Non! Jean Loo sees what you are doing! He will not be swayed by your flirt words and manipulations!” He points at you accusingly, narrowing his eyes. “Hoh hoh, you think you are the smart little cookie, no?”
FUCK. You were so sure he was going to crack, too! Plan C. You reach across the table, with a half lidded gaze, and grab his tie, giving it a gentle tug.
“You wanna make out?”
“Absolutely, yes.”
“I'll be right back…lover,” you say, doing your best to sound as sultry as possible as you leave the table. When you return, you present Jean Loo with a cup containing a small amount of blue liquid. He looks at it curiously and takes an experimental sniff.
“This is…mouthwash?”
You say nothing, but waggle your eyebrows.
Jean Loo takes a deep breath, setting down the cup and rising from his seat.
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